Guilty
by Bsum1
Summary: Fic re-do. Oneshot. Snape knows that he can't prove his innocence and so does Harry. But sometimes you have to make the choice between what is right and what is easy. Post DH ignores character death and epilogue.


My apologies to anyone who has already read this. After receiving some constructive reviews I was determined to alter my story a little to make it more realistic. Thank you so much to all of those who have reviewed. Your kind words and constructive criticism are both much appreciated.

To 'Alex' and 'whitehound' I would like to thank you for the time you spent giving me helpful feedback. You people had me stumped for a moment there, but then I thought of one word…

Oh! And, to those who are a little confused. This is a one-shot. (Year 12 is hard)

_Guilty - By Bsum1_

While the _Prior Incantato_ charm could detect what spell a wand had last cast, no one was yet to invent a spell to detect what curse or charm had been cast on someone. Wizards and Witches alike just _assumed._

The lack of one simple spell had likely sent hundreds to their deaths and left even more permanently disabled. Tonight would be no different.

But that was alright, because while one life would be destroyed because of the absence of this spell, another would be saved.

"_We must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy."_

"Mister Potter, please come down to the floor," said Kingsley Shacklebolt pleasantly.

Harry rose from his seat on the bench and made his way down beside the chair in the centre of the room, the chains that covered it wrapping around tensed arms.

Harry didn't dare make eye contact.

Instead, he looked up at the newly instated Minister of Magic who sat at a much higher bench then the one Harry had been on, the dimly lit torches echoing in his dark eyes.

"You wished to give your testimony in the trial of accused Death Eater Severus Snape?"

Harry's heart was beating a violent tattoo against his Adam's apple. He swallowed hard and said, "I do, sir."

Kingsley gave him a reassuring smile and waved his hand in invitation to begin.

Feeling rather sick, he looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-and side of the chest.

The Wizengamot. Just like his hearing before fifth year.

Except this year they weren't all looking down their noses at him with austere expressions. Now, Harry had defeated Voldemort once and for all. Now, Harry wasn't a trouble making kid. Now, Harry had gained their respect and adoration.

He could see it in their eyes.

But Snape, who sat stiff behind him in his shackled chair, was receiving worst glares than Harry had ever received from anyone from the Wizengamot, including Delores Umbridge who was now in Azkaban for crimes against muggle-borns.

Snape the Death Eater.

Snape the murderer of Albus Dumbledore.

Snape, who was so disbelieving in the possibility of being acquitted that he hadn't even bothered to plead his case.

Harry swallowed again, trying to moisten his throat enough to speak. He could feel the Dementors that hid behind that large wooden door beside him.

There was no chance Snape wouldn't be given the kiss.

But Harry had taken far too long to speak, and the Wizengamot was getting impatient.

"Well then. Speak up Mr. Potter!" demanded a very stringy woman who had a neck that reminded him of Aunt Petunia and bulging blue veins that ran all the way down it like Uncle Vernon's angry forehead.

Harry squared his shoulders.

"Severus Snape is innocent," he said with more confidence than he felt.

Snape couldn't prove his innocence. But Harry knew. He knew because of a self-destructive letter he had received a week ago written by Albus Dumbledore himself.

"He did not murder Albus Dumbledore."

There was a shocked silence.

The whispers began to build.

Kingsley lent forward against his podium, his tall red wizard's hat flopping over his face.

"I beg your pardon, Harry. But didn't you tell us all a year ago that you witnessed the accused voluntarily use the Avada Kedavra curse against Albus Dumbledore?"

Harry heard Snape flinched behind him, the chains clinking.

"I did," Harry said evenly.

He and Hermione had spoken on the matter. They both knew that the public was looking for blood. They both knew that the Wizengamot needed to put someone in Azkaban for the murder of Dumbledore.

Justice needed to be served and the stakes needed to be set.

No one can get away with murder.

Harry looked Kingsley squarely in the eyes. "Do you remember, Minister, when I confessed that Dumbledore had given me a mission?"

Kingsley nodded. "The one, whatever it was, that you completed during your travels this year?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "It was a mission Dumbledore and I had originally been completing together. On the night of Professor Dumbledore's death we discovered a hidden… weapon of Voldemort's - "

Harry stopped, he couldn't believe he was doing this.

He could hear Snape growling lowly behind him.

"Watch what you're saying, Potter," it warned.

"The weapon was protected by a potion. We decided that the only way to get to the weapon was to ingest the potion. It was, of course, poison… I forced Dumbledore to drink it."

The courtroom gasped.

Kingsley coughed. "You expect us to believe that you, a 16 year old boy at the time, forced Albus Dumbledore to drink a poison?" he said disbelievingly.

"I can be… persuasive when I need to be. I used his guilt over his sister Ariana's death to convince him." Harry felt his eyes grow sore and his throat constrict, but dammit he would not cry. "He begged me to stop, begged me, but I didn't. I didn't stop because I didn't want to die."

Harry paused. The Wizengamot were looking at him with eyes as wide as owls, waiting on his next word with baited breath.

Harry had been naive at first, believing that the truth would set the both of them free. As he stood there, he even considered it again. If he just explained that it had been Dumbledore's plan all along, that Dumbledore had been dying, then maybe they would be let go. But no, Hermione had explained, one word stood in their way.

Euthanasia.

Even if Snape had been ordered to kill Dumbledore, it was assisted suicide. It was criminal.

Ron had tried to think up a plan, some way for Harry to accuse another Death Eater of doing the deed. That Harry had framed Snape as per Dumbledore's orders. But that would mean further investigation, most likely with veritaserum. And when the truth came to light, they would be back where they started.

And how much it must have hurt Snape, to have to done away with the one person who had forgiven him and trusted him so easily? Snape didn't deserve to go to Azkhaban, so Harry would go in his place.

So he created his own story, one that didn't include Euthanasia, but such a grisly tale that nobody would question it.

"He was dead when I took him back to Hogwarts. When I spotted the Dark Mark above the Astronomy tower I went up to investigate."

Harry shook his head weakly. Why, WHY was he doing this?

He could get out this, couldn't he? Kingsley was from the Order, surely he could help?

But no, all accused Death Eaters needed to be tried by the entire Wizengamot. Kingsley couldn't protect Snape here. And if Harry was to try, he would have to do it here and now. Under the eyes of the Ministry's most powerful political leaders.

"When the Death Eaters arrived I saw it for the opportunity it was. I didn't want to go to Azkaban. I couldn't bear the thought of the Dementor's kiss," and now Harry really did start crying, because he knew, irrefutably, that he had destined himself to never see his friends again. Hero or no, this was murder. "I threw him off the tower and hid under my invisibility cloak. When I noticed that Snape was with them, I chose to frame him."

It wasn't until then that Harry turned to meet eyes with his old Professor. Snape looked at him like he was looking at Harry for the first time. His sickly face was slack and his dark black eyes were wide with astonishment.

Harry turned around, having seen enough.

A hero.

This was the right thing to do.

"I murdered Albus Dumbledore."

The breath of the Dementor's rattled from behind the door.

*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*

I got this idea from Schemingreader's Blue Tranquilium.

Please tell me what you think!

And I realise there are still a few possibilities for 'what happens next' but I'll be leaving that to your imagination.

This has created a thought in my mind. I wonder if the Avada Kedavra curse was created as a means of euthanasia? After all, it is a painless and quick way to die.


End file.
